Just Can't Wait to Get On the Road Again

Tomorrow, I am going home. HOME!

I've been done with school for about a week, and it's been good to take a break. But I've been antsy to get home since then, and Williamsburg does not exactly have a happening social scene...and who am I kidding -- even if it did, I wouldn't be out there enjoying it, so I've been a little bored without schoolwork to do.

Tomorrow, bright and early, Kathryn and I will fly out to Columbus, and read crappy magazines on the plane, and then we will be home! Hooray!

g vs. talent

Gifted education has a historical debate going on in which the nature of intelligence is defined either as g, or general intelligence vs. multiple intelligences, such as Howard Gardner's; he believes that there are 8/9 different intelligences, and that people possess them in different "amounts". The intelligences are linguistic, mathematical/logical, spatial, musical, bodily-kinesthetic, naturalistic, interpersonal, intrapersonal, and he's in the process of considering spiritual intelligence for a 9th.

Sometimes in gifted ed, these multiple intelligences are referred to as talents, and there is a focus on talent development. This is a nice, broad view of giftedness, because it let's people be good at one thing and work to develop it rather than being globally gifted.

This semester, when I finally sat and thought about it, has been a good one for self reflection, although I'm not always sure I like what I see. I would tend to place myself on the conservative side of a definition of giftedness, working with the notion of g and calling giftedness equivalent to high IQ. Although I've never been IQ tested, I myself would fall into this category -- generally good at learning, bright across the school-types of intelligence. When I was in high school, I recognized this about myself, and felt better than people who were good at things, but didn't excel at school the way I did. Not in the sense of "I'm awesome and too good to hang out with you," but more in the sense of, "You don't get me." Which, to be fair, I still think might be true. Globally gifted kids do think different than other kids, I believe, and in their own way approach the world in a unique way. They have a particular set of social and emotional needs that may vary from other kids (who, of course, have a set of social and emotional needs, too).

Now I'm here, floundering in a sea of indecision about my future, and realizing that despite my schooling and excellent past academic performance, I am qualified to do nothing. I think about the jobs I could do next year, in the fields I want to work in (excluding education, for the time being), and the one that keeps popping into my head is "secretary." Now, there is nothing wrong with being a secretary -- I have the utmost respect for people who run offices and make things work on a day to day basis. Frankly, I wouldn't even mind doing the job for the short-term -- it's useful and you can see the effects of it. That's important to me. It's just that, unless I were the secretary for an organization I truly cared about, like a nonprofit in which I were a founding member, or (this is for you, Sarah and Mom) a church I felt very connected to, then secretary doesn't seem the greatest use for my years and years of education.

So I'm looking back, and thinking about those people I knew in high school who, although perhaps not as good as performing in school, are happy and have a job and a life. As I teeter over a precipice with no prospects ahead of me career-wise, I envy them. I hate to say I'd trade my global intelligence for a particular talent, but at this point, I wish I had a single passion that I could really dedicate my life to. This is the same reason I could never get a Ph. D. I don't like any one thing enough to dedicate that much time to it, which is a shame, because I know I have the capability to pursue higher education.

I wish I had a thing, an interest, a specific talent I could use to make something of myself, because right now, I feel as if my combination of knowledge and skills is pretty useless.

Merry Tuba Christmas!

Last night, I took Kathryn on a top-secret mission to Richmond to introduce her to the wonderful world of Tuba Christmas. I found the event listed on the national Tuba Christmas website, but had no idea that it was taking place in conjunction with Richmond's Grand Illumination, the event where they turn on all the Christmas lights for the first time downtown for the season.

I did five official Tuba Christmas events while I was growing up with fellow band members. The event held in Columbus is a huge one, or was when I attended several years ago. They used to hold it at the Palace Theater downtown, and would have somewhere in the range of 350-500 tuba and euphonium players. In college, the ND basses from marching band would go around to the dorms and have our own unofficial Tuba Christmas during study days. Some of the rectors hated us, but most were really appreciative, and it was a nice break to the insane exam study-time.

Now, as a tuba player, I know my place. I understand the necessity to write sustained whole notes and the dreaded "oom-pahs" for band arrangements, but there is a certain kind of beauty when that is thrown out the window and Christmas Carols are arranged exclusively for bass-clef instruments. It's like a men's choir, but deeper and broader. And it's beautiful.

The Richmond event was much smaller, but they broke a record last night with 76 players, and I think Kathryn had a good time. It's a fun event, and I'm so proud to be a tuba player and to expose my non-tuba friends to something so unique.

5:00 Drive Home

On the way home from his visit with me for Thanksgiving week, the Affianced got stuck in Washington DC for two night. Mechanical errors and then Thanksgiving over-bookings did not work in his favor. The first night was inconvenient. The second night was really inconvenient, as he really needed to be at home working on projects for school.

When he called me at the end of the day yesterday and told me he was stuck for another night, I felt huge guilt. I knew I should go drive up to DC and be with him, but I also had a big big amount of work to get started on. I wanted to see him, but I also wanted to not get behind. I struggled for awhile, but in the end, I told myself, "You know, Becky, this marriage thing is a choice. It's not always going to be easy or fun (although most of the time it is), but these are the things a supportive significant other does." So I made the choice: I drove to DC last night, about three hours away, arriving around 9:00, just in time to have dinner with Andy, play a round or two of text-twist and watch the end of the Patriot's game with him, and go to sleep. Then, four and a half hours later, I was up again to avoid the early morning Monday-after-Thanksgiving DC traffic and be back in time for my 9:00am class. It wasn't exactly fun, but it was good to see Andy, if only for 8 hours.

As a result, the day has been a bit of a haze, but I have gotten a start on my graduate research project for my Young Adult Lit class, which is a huge relief. I was building it up to be a bigger deal than it actually is, so to sit down and start writing the lit review half of the paper is a major stumbling block to have overcome. And frankly, I think this paper is going to be good.

On a similar note, I finished a draft of my Abnormal Psychology Curriculum unit last night, and I'm so proud of it! It was 123 pages to print off (keeping in mind, of course, that many of those pages were worksheets and the like), but it's comprehensive, and has a lot of good resources, and I think it does a good job showing what I have learned about teaching (or at least planning for) gifted kids. I'm so psyched to teach it in the spring!

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, and although it's a little strange to not be home this year (and a little sad, too), I'm nonetheless extremely thankful that 1) I have the Affianced here this week to celebrate with me, which is a welcome break from the Long Distance Relationship, even if it is only only temporary, and 2) We have been invited to my supervisor's house today for Thanksgiving dinner, which means we'll have all the fun and traditional thanksgiving stuff AND I get to be the pie contributor, which means I get to bake this morning! YAY!

Also, the parade is on.

Off to peel apples. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Internal Consistency

I just scored an 79% on an online midterm. That's a C (a high C, but a C). Now, this is not a grade that I'm particularly comfortable with, but as I get older and start to look at the value of test grades vs. actual learning, I'm starting to understand that perhaps tests aren't everything. So here is my rationalization.

1) The average score for the class (thus far) is an 80%.
2) I forgot that one of the lectures was not in my notebook -- I had a powerpoint printed off, and simply forgot about it, and didn't study it. Having said that, I thought I knew the information alright, but surely looking over it would have been helpful. There is no one to blame but myself for this.
3) After taking the test, I went back through my notes to get an idea of what I missed and what I did wrong. Of course, I didn't have the test questions in front of me, but I mostly remembered the ones I was unsure about, and found the real answers to a couple that I did get wrong. Although it didn't show in my test score, that's also learning.

Re: #3, I'm beginning to see the value of learning over grades, which I think is important. And that's something that certainly has only come since grad school.

So, there you have it. Perhaps my lowest test grade ever (I exaggerate. But only slightly). Guess it's time to take this class a little more seriously.

Social Network

The other day at my counseling intake interview, the woman, Courtney, asked me how my social life was here at WM. I told her that my social circle was small, but just the right size for the amount of time I have. I pondered this when I went home. It's interesting, because in most other situations, I would be bummed that I don't know more people. But really, the people I do know are fantastic, and I feel totally friend-sated.

First, there is Kathryn, by far the closest thing I have to my other half here. We work together, which is great, because I need someone to write me absurd e-mails (or, more accurately, reply to my firstly-absurd e-mails) and entertain me when I should be working at the Center but really don't want to. Kathryn is great to talk to, and shares my love of binge eating...which isn't always good for my waist-line or eventual stomach-ache, but has been good for chilling out a little and not stressing about my weight (which is fine and holding relatively steady...and I'm still going to the gym, yay for me).

Then there is Dave. Dave is funny and talkative and, as he puts it, an "open book." This is totally true. One morning, while waiting in line for the bike sale, Dave told me his life story. Well, mostly. I was totally in a "want to go back to bed" stupor, so I just nodded along. Later, he tried to retell all the stories one night when we all went out for a drink, and I was finishing all his sentences for him and ruining the ending. He didn't have as much to talk about then, but it was pretty funny. Dave is dependable.

There are also Ben and Eric. These are Dave's roommates. They are funny guys, and exact opposites, Eric being over-the-top outspoken and very politically incorrect, and Ben being quiet and introspective. He doesn't talk much, but what he says is also poignant and insightful. They're both good guys.

And really, that's it. My roommate had to leave me, and the new one is nice enough, although essentially absent. In January, we eagerly await the arrival of the indomitable Katie Baker, back from her hiatus in Ohio where she was completing her first book about the middle-school social scene at WM Law School. I can't to have her back.

I like my new friends.

Red, Orange, and Yellow

Today, I left my apartment after a relative sleep-in (which was glorious) only to find it spitting rain. Scrapping my well-intentioned decision to ride my bike to work and therefore be kind to the environment, I walked toward the Gradplex parking lot with my head down, trying to keep the rain off my glasses, which is by far the most annoying thing about wearing glasses in the first place. As I was staring at my shoes, I came across a pile of leaves, and realized they were a brilliant yellow. I forced myself to look up, and realized that I had totally missed the leaves changing color. It's not as brilliant as I've seen some places before, but a good deal of the trees around the Gradplex were lovely shades of non-green. It made me realize that, perhaps, I've not been taking enough time to enjoy the small things and notice that, in fact, the seasons are changing.

Then it continued to rain all day, making all walks outside miserable. C'est la vie.

Outrageously Good

I have one professor here I truly respect at the moment, and today he handed us back our long take-home midterms that he had graded. My final essay (of 4) was deemed "Outrageously good." It's so nice to get criticism that I feel is deserved and that I worked hard for.

Tomorrow is a day of insanity -- there is work at the Center, a lot of work to be done for Thursday and a presentation I'm giving, and some work-ahead on a chunk of lesson plans due next Monday. But, among other things, it's also the first day of counseling at the counseling center! I realize that tomorrow is only going to be intake, but I cannot wait to meet with someone who will nicely sit and listen to me ramble about my poor confusing career crisis with interest. And hopefully offer me some good problem-solving solutions so I can sort out my future.

But, I am also taking some time tomorrow night to visit with Kathryn and eat cheese puffs -- both extremely important things. I am truly becoming better at taking breaks and not freaking out about working ahead, and it's making me feel much more mentally healthy. Having said that, I really must get started on this literature research project...



On a totally random note, I wanted to post a picture of the Affianced and I at Notre Dame a couple weekends ago. Because we heart ND.

...If We Are Women

Last week in my Young Adult Literature class, we read a novel called Speak using Feminist Literary Theory. My professor wrote the book on theory we are using for the class (which is incidentally excellent), and one of the quotes he used in his text is from Virginia Wolff. It says, "For we think back through our mothers if we are women."

I was supremely bothered by this quote. I read it, and it sounded so nice, and I wanted to think back through my mother and her mother and the generations of mothers before them. But as a woman, I do not feel as if I think back through my mother. I love my mother, and I feel as if she is a good parent and a good person who contributed largely to raising me well, but I don't see myself as like her. From as far back as I can remember, I have been told that I "think like my father." I adopted this to this day identify myself as George's daughter -- stubborn and logical, highly-motivated, and perhaps not as sensitive as I should be toward others feelings. Of course these adjectives aren't the only four things that define me, but I have always felt that my personality was that of a Walter, despite the fact that my interests rested more on the Collins side of things (i.e. musical theater rather than basketball).


However, as I'm writing this, I'm starting to reconsider, because there is one aspect of my life that comes quite clearly from Ann - Catholicism. I suppose at this point I would consider myself to be a lapsed Catholic; I love and respect Catholic tradition, but have a problem with some of the social viewpoints to which Catholicism ascribes. I'm sure I'll come home to the Church eventually, but for now I can't with good conscious call myself practicing. But the Catholic way of thinking, the appreciation for the saints and prayer and the silence of an empty, vaulted church are aspects of my life that I do, indeed think back through my mother for. I am grateful for that.

I'm So Excited! I'm So Excited! I'm So...SCARED!

If you fair readers have ever experienced the pleasure of seeing the episode of Saved By The Bell entitled "Jessie's Song," in which Jessie gets addicted to "drugs" (i.e. No Doz), then you will understand the reference in the title. If not...consider yourself very unlucky and guy buy seasons I and II of SBTB immediately.

This week has brought an interesting mix of downtime and sheer terror as I look into the upcoming weeks. On the bright side, the evil busy work of student teaching has subsided. I haven't made my portfolio yet, in part because my professor is lazy and cannot manage to get me comments on her observation in a timely manner, but everything is nicely tucked into an accordion file ready to be sorted and placed ever-so-gently into page protectors when the time comes ("the time" being Thanksgiving break).

On the other hand, I have started looking forward to the upcoming few weeks, and for the time being, they appear a little insane. I have a group project and individual critique on the same topic due next week in class, and graduate research project that is a proportionally small part of my grade, but a huge part of fright due by the end of the semester. For said research paper (which is, incidentally, for my elective class, Young Adult Literature), the professor has told us that his goal for this particular paper is submission to an English journal. Um...I write APA style. I haven't touched MLA since high school. This is daunting. Tonight, Professor Moore asked me where I was on my project. My response? "It is currently non-existent." This is not entirely true. I have a lot of resources, and have been picking slowly through young adult novels on my theme (which is "Non-'problem' presentations of homosexuality in young adult literature"), but I haven't started seriously researching any of the literature on the topic, other than to read the novels themselves. Yikes.

Then there are two sets of gifted classroom observations due for two different classes (can we say redundant) which need to be scheduled and reflected upon. In the end, I know this will all be fine, but having been out of town to Notre Dame last weekend, which was wonderful and worth every minute NOT spent studying, and being out of town again this weekend for the National Association for Gifted Children convention, my loss of weekends for school work has been causing slight freakouts.

Just keep breathing.

On a totally different note, I've started to come to terms with the fact that I probably won't teach next year. On the one hand, this bums me out because I have always envisioned myself as a teacher, at least in the recent past. On the other hand, part of me is filled with glee: no lesson plans, no referrals, no early-early mornings, no Sunday night "Crap, I have to go to school tomorrow, I feel sick" feelings in the pit of my stomach. I think I'm going to find an equally thankless and poverty-ridden yet also rewarding job for some kind of non-profit (probably the liberal and progressive kind, what, with being in Vermont and all). The prospect of NOT being in the classroom fills me with equal parts sadness and joy. Teaching really is a job that requires a love-hate relationship...at least, the kind of teaching I did in Louisiana.

Off to be productive. No, seriously. Stop laughing. Interpreting Young Adult Literature, here I come.

Sweet November

A few years ago, there was a terrible, terrible movie produced called Sweet November. It involved some painful acting by Charlize Theron, and some more-painful non-acting by Keaneau Reeves (because, really, we all know Reeves doesn't act -- he just plays the same character with different names). This entry had nothing to do with that movie.

I finished student teaching yesterday. It feels glorious to be done, and when I was sitting in class in the evening after the last long, long day, I felt giddy like it was summer. And I was free.

The end of teaching went well. The last two days, we were in the computer lab, which was fantastic because all the kids were engaged in what they were doing and having a good time. When I left, the kids all pitched in and bought me a cake and a Barnes and Noble gift card. It was so nice, and I was really touched. That does not mean I'm not thrilled to be finished.

And now it is November. Wonderful, cool, Thanksgiving-laden November. So many good things happen in November, including, you know, seeing the Affianced in person. On two separate occasions. I know. Hold on to your seats.

Today, I am flying to Notre Dame. I have become one of "those alumni" I never thought I'd be. The kind who goes back and gets nostalgic about the "great college years". The kind who might possibly someday bring her children dressed in tiny Notre Dame jerseys. Or, in our case, tiny band uniforms with tiny Shamrock awards for band practice perfect attendance. Glorious.

In Just Three Days...

I shall have a semblance of a life back.

I shall have 15-20 extra hours a week to use for exercise or work or...sleep.

And I shall be on my way to South Bend to see my affianced for the first time since August. It's about time.

I shall have time to be creative again and write real, humorous (God willing) blog entries.

I can't wait to be a real human again without this ridiculous time-sucker called student teaching.

In other news, the new roommate moved in today. She has minimal things and seems normal and studies in the law library alot. I think we'll get along just fine.

To Teach or Not To Teach. That Is The Question.

I've been seriously considering the idea of completely scrapping the whole teaching thing next year and doing non-profit work, or something of the sort, mostly because I can't figure out how to navigate the education bureaucracy and there is no one with the knowledge to help me. But then, I read things like Evan's response to my "Affective" (ie, "Feelings") post-test question, "How do you feel when you think about atoms?" Evan: Bored and sleeping, because I mostly learn about atoms in school, and I am mostly bored and sleepy in school. Most of the time.

I giggled.

I'm trying to hang in there, and have done a remarkably good job of pushing the negativity aside today, just because I don't want to deal with it. But it's hard. I'm struggling a little.

Stop Counting the Days Away

Tonight, I had a good visit with George, who was in town to play golf. Luckily, he found enough time to take me out to dinner, too. We were talking about my brothers and I, and our varied gifts, and Dad told me that he thought mine was in my goal-setting, and planning and organization to reach those goals, although sometimes I bring stress upon myself to get there. This is totally true, and it got me to thinking about the way I'm approaching things right now, which I mentioned a little earlier today.

I am a great planner. I use my DayTimer like it's my job. But I'm never content with getting things done. On the days when I finish my to-do lists (which, let's be honest, is most days, because I don't like to fail on my list, just like I don't like to fail at anything), I don't take a break and chill out. Instead, I look for the next thing that's coming up that I should get started on early, and then it becomes the project for "now."

Now, this way of thinking has its advantages. I am never late turning in papers. In fact, I often have them done several weeks ahead of time, and this saves me a lot of last-minute stress, which I absolutely hate. However, this frame of mind comes at the expense of giving myself a freaking break. Today, I got a lot done. I effectively got my next week of classes ready for student teaching, with a little room for flexibility. I watched my tape of myself teaching from last week, and filled out the self-observation form. I typed up my discussion questions for my book group for my Lit for Adolescents class. Yesterday, I finished my reading for my Curriculum class for the week, and also got the chapter read in my theory book for the aforementioned lit class. Now, at 11:00, I should just chill out and read one of my self-selected kids books for enjoyment (which also, incidentally, will double as classwork...how cool is that?)

But instead, I feel like I should go get some "academic" reading done, or plan a lesson, or something. I don't want to, but I have a hard time drawing the line. I have time, shouldn't I fill it with schoolwork?

This is also part of the reason that living alone is bad for me. I have little to distract me, and so I work like a fiend.

I look at my schedule for tomorrow, and instead of seeing it as a new day full of opportunities, I see it as a list of hours, some of which are already filled up with things like ballroom dancing and tap dancing classes, and talking with Andy. And I LIKE to do those things. But instead of seeing them as things I get to do, things to look forward to, I start to think of them as things that are taking time away from my schoolwork which, as I mentioned this morning, is not hard, just time-consuming.

I need to do some work on giving myself a break, on enjoying things as they come. I'm a good time manager, and that's great, but life should not be consumed with crossing things off a list, and seeing things not on that list as distractors. Rather, those things that aren't on my list are the things that really make me who I am. I hope I don't define myself as "Someone who plans curriculum" or "Someone who works at the Center for Gifted Ed" or "Someone who writes tests about atoms." Rather, I am "A fiancee to a wonderful and sarcastic man," "someone who hangs out with her friends," and, frankly, "a damn fine tap dancer." Last year, I let myself be defined and consumed by teaching, and now I find myself doing the same thing with schoolwork. And as I look into my future next year and my career as a teacher is questionable, then that's all the more reason not to let myself become defined by my work as a teacher or student. I need to maintain my actual identity that is unrelated to those things, because in 9 months, I may actually be nothing more than a Barnes and Noble employee -- but I'll still be me, as long as I can spend enough time maintaining me to recognize myself when I come out on the other side of this whole experience.

Loosen Up

Last night, my friend Dave had a birthday party, and it was just what I needed to lighten up. And I don't just mean for the evening, I mean overall. It's been weird here -- I've been working hard and doing my best, although the coursework I'm taking, while time-consuming, isn't at all challenging. In fact, in that aspect, it's been a real disappointment. But that doesn't mean I'm not putting forward my best work, because I am. I just wish that my best work didn't ceiling out quite so easily.

So I've been getting frustrated because I've been putting in so much time and energy for relatively little gain, which sucks. And last night, I went to Dave's, had a little "juice" as DJ lovingly refers to adult beverages when story-telling about his college days, and just chilled out. I met some new people, mostly law students, who seem really nice, and then, when the evening was over, I came home and went to bed without setting an alarm.

I still woke up relatively early this morning, went out and took care of a few errands and now, I think I'm just going to go back to bed. The old, high-stress Becky would have thought, "No, must stay away and accomplish things!" The new Becky is going to enjoy the weekend...at least a little. Some work has to been accomplished today...

Insanity is Just Around the Corner

For better or for worse, the insanity begins tomorrow. I start my "Practicum" (a fancy word that translates into "unpaid student teaching"), and my schedule for the next three weeks looks something like this on a day-to-day basis:

7:00-10:15: Work at the Center
10:45-3:00: Go to school and teach 3-4 Science classes
3:30-5:00: Go back to the Center to work
5:00 into the evening: Go to class or, if I am so lucky as to not have class, work desperately to stay on top of reading/projects for these said classes. Oh, also make sure I'm all set to teach tomorrow.
10:00pm: Bedtime (What? I'm pathetic? Yes.)

And then, when the three weeks are over, I get to jump back in and start working overtime to make up for all those hours at the Center I have missed. Ahhh...I love the good old graduate assistantship!

Having said that, I need to go do some reading before I crash at the pathetic hour tonight. I can't WAIT for the 6:00 alarm to sound!

Why Bother?

In the midst of navigating the "interstate teacher licensure maze", I'm starting to wonder whether its all worthwhile.

Vermont is telling me that despite the fact that I have a BA from a top-20 university, two years of teaching experience in middle school science, and a master's degree (soon) in gifted education from one of the top programs in the nation, they don't want to give me a license to teach in their state because I don't have at least a minor in Science.

I guess I kind of see their point. Which makes me wonder whether I should just scrap teaching all together -- I'm not an expert in anything useful in the K-12 classroom (somehow I don't think Psychology is super-marketable to that crowd), so what's the point. In order to deal with the Vermont situation, I essentially have to go back and get the equivalent of a minor in Science courses (great, more useless, non-intrinsically interesting school) or switch teaching subjects to Social Studies, which I might be able to convince someone I have a background in (Psychology is a Social Science, right?).

I feel like I should be strong and keep pushing for what I want to do. But I also don't want to have to deal with this every time I want to move to a new state. Why should I have to be static in my geographic location just because my profession is stupid and can't agree with the state next door who to let teach and who to ban from the classroom?

Maybe now is a good time to look into getting that job with NPR. Or as a pastry chef. Or something else NOT in the classroom. Because people in the classroom don't want me.

If I Didn't Own My New Bike, I Would Covet It

This morning, Dave and I got up at 6:30 to go to the bike sale. Despite something like 60 people being in line in front of us, I got this bike for $10. Granted, it would look nicer if I took the picture outside, with beams of light bouncing off the shiny chrome, but come on...How cool is it? And look. It came with streamers.

I am totally purchasing a basket for it.

You Went What?

Last weekend, I went hiking. Of my own volition. By myself. No peer pressure involved. Everyone who knows me as (quite accurately) unathletic may now scrape your jaws off the floor.

I just needed a little break from work and some quite time, and my friend that I spend a vast majority of my time with had a visitor from out of town, so I thought "Let's get out and see a bit of the Williamsburg area."

I found a park area that had several short trails that could be strung together into a decently long hike, and spent a good hour and a half or so at the park. It was really nice and quiet and lovely, except for one incident: The Deer.

I know that deer are supposed to be gentle and beautiful, but they actually scare the crap out of me. My friend Kathryn's apartment is around the back of the lady's house that she rents from, and it's right next to the woods. One morning, I went to pick her up for the gym, and two deer were literally feet from me staring. I was petrified, and did the "don't make eye contact" walk, hoping they wouldn't attack.

When I was hiking last weekend, there was was point where I was totally absorbed in my thoughts, and suddenly, at a bit of a distance, two deer come tearing through the trees. Not at me, not even near me, but I almost peed myself, wilding thinking "What if they come this way? What do I do? No one is around. AUGH!" I froze, waited until they ran past, and decided to stop my hike at the end of that path, lest they make another appearance.

I got some good pictures on the hike, though.

But...It's My Name!

Today, I called George to talk to him about a banking decision I was considering (yes, I'm 24 years old and still consult my father about all financial matters). Before we got to that part of the conversation, however, his reply to my hello was "Becky? Becky Wxxxxx? Or Becky Pxxxxx?" to which I responses "Becky Wxxxxx-Pxxxxx." Thus ensued an interesting conversation about my future married name that went something like this:

"Are you going to be hyphenated?"
"Yeah, I think I am."
"But maybe you could just drop Marie and make Wxxxxx your middle name."
"I offered that option to Andy if he also made Wxxxxx his middle name."
(Slightly confused silence). "Maybe you could just give in and take Pxxxxx."
"Would you have given up your name when you got married?"
"Well, as a male, I wasn't asked to, so I can't really say. And I can't answer as a female, that wouldn't be fair. I don't really know. What about your children?"
"They'll just be Pxxxxxs."
"But do you really want to have a different last name as them?"
"Well, I considered doing the two last names, no hyphen thing (Becky Wxxxxx Pxxxxx), but I figured that would be too confusing. And I feel like hyphenating identifies me with my children more than just keeping my own name would."
"Actually, the two last names might be a good decision. That way, as you become more acclimated to Pxxxxx, you can just phase out Wxxxxx."
"Or I could keep both my names."
"Well, you might decide in a couple years to just go with Pxxxxx. But you could always do another name change if you do make that decision."
"Well, see, George, I didn't feel so strongly about my name until everyone called me that for two years. I mean, I was Ms. Wxxxxx every day at school for a long time."
"So it's kind of an identity thing?"
"I guess. And also, I know some people don't care much for their family or had a bad childhood, but I like my family alright. I don't really want to get rid of Wxxxxx."
"Well, that's good...Do you think there's some sense of irony that the name you're trying so hard to maintain comes from a relatively stubborn line of people?" (This thought really tickles George, and he is absolutely belly laughing)
"I'm sure Lois would agree."

It was a very interesting conversation, and there were many times when I felt like Dad was just totally missing my point. However, I respect the fact that 1) He didn't try to pretend he would know what he would have done had he been the female in his own marriage situation and 2) Despite the fact that I know he thinks it's silly for me to hyphenate or keep my own name, he's still being supportive of it.

The Octopus watches

I found this really amazing piece of jewelry this summer, and purchased it in a very spur of the moment way, which is highly unlike me. But it's so unique and cool, and I've gotten a ton of comments upon it today, including one from a guy at swing dancing who was genuinely a little bit disturbed by it, I think. Although it is possible that he could have been disturbed by the fact that he was about to attempt a dip move with a woman several inches taller than him (that would be me) of no tiny stature.

I've been realizing that I have been very bad about taking time for myself this year. I get very caught up in schoolwork (especially now that I'm without a roommate to distract me -- I do dislike living alone), and partly because I'm trying to be a beast about "banking hours" at work so that I can take time off for Thanksgiving and leaving for Christmas, etc. But that me time is really important for balance, and so tonight, I'm watching a movie, and this weekend, I'm going to find a nice trail and go hiking.

I wish I had Dad's old manual camera here, but it was one of the (few) things I decided I didn't need at William and Mary. But if I had it, I'd take it with me and have a little photo shoot. Alas, I'll have to enjoy the scenery the old fashion way with my eyes.

The Elusive Half-Size

I have big feet. Not ungodly large or anything, but I wear a good solid 10.5 in most shoes.

That's the problem. See, shoe manufacturers, generally, make sizes from 5.5-10, then skip to 11. I realize that this is probably an economic thing -- as you get to the extremes in size, less people wear them. Right, ok, that logically makes sense, but I'd love to get a shoe manufacturer, grab him by the collar and shake him, and say You try walking around in too-big shoes all the time. It seems so unfair.

Now, usually, I just stick with the 11s. Now and again, I'll find a shoe that runs big or small and a pair will actually fit. Or, in the case of Chuck Taylors (God bless them), they make half sizes that large because their shoes are unisex, and my size wouldn't be considered an extreme for men. For that reason, I have also been known to purchase a pair of mens shoes on the rare occasion.

I'm pretty easy going. It makes me angry, but I can usually deal with the problem.

Until now. I'm trying to find wedding shoes.

I refuse to wear ill-fitting shoes for my wedding. I want cuteness and comfort. I'm having a heck of a time achieving that. It's maddening. When I do find a pair of 10.5 shoes, they are ugly. I'm not going to wear orthopedic shoes to my wedding!

Maybe I'll just track down a shoe manufacturer to shake.

Discernment

My roommate just told me that she's thinking about switching out of law school and into another graduate program, perhaps in policy, American studies, or educational administration. I had been getting the sense that she was really stressed out here, and was wondering just tonight if she really liked law school, so I'm really happy that she's looking into other things and working to find the best fit for her. The process of discernment is so wonderful -- I love looking into new things, trying things out, and I'm so happy for people when they find something they really want to do.

A few people quit Teach For America after our first year. TFA treats such people in a very weird way -- they immediately take their picture off the TFA bulletin board in the office, and the whole thing becomes very hush hush in the "Name that is no longer spoken" kind of way. But I have so much respect for people who are able to look at a situation, especially part-way through, and say, "Nope, this isn't for me. I thought it was. I thought wrong. Time to try again." Not that perpetual searching is necessarily profitable or even fiscally feasible, but I do believe that there is a right time and mission and path for everyone, and it's not always what you think it's going to be.

My good friend here, Kathryn, is in the counseling program, and I'm having a tiny inkling in the pit of my stomach that I might want to try that in the future. I think I'll stick with gifted ed for the time being, because I do miss being in the classroom, but I guess I hadn't realized how much I miss having real content in my own education -- she's learning Psychology, and I'm learning vague and abstract theory. I miss my Psych.

On the other hand, I feel extremely fortunate that in one year, I will have a piece of paper in my hand that, more or less, says I can teach gifted kids. I also feel fortunate that I am determined and adventurous, and I know that if, someday, counseling becomes the thing for me, there's always another master's degree out there to be had. I could be a perpetual student and be completely happy.

Although, talk about not being fiscally feasible... :)

"Top 100 Songs from High School"

Thanks, Ms. Snoring Scholar, for the invitation. I need a study break. You know, I've been working for an entire...35 minutes. Whew!

Oops...I was supposed to use songs from my graduation year. Not Sarah's graduation year. I think it's all coming together now...And this list is SO much better! :)

Bold = I loved it!
Underlined = I liked it
Strikeout = I didn't like it!
Nothing = Uh...I didn't care

1. Lady Marmalade Christina Aguilera, Lil' Kim, Mya & Pink
2. Fallin', Alicia Keys
3. I'm Real, Jennifer Lopez
4. Family Affair, Mary J. Blige
5. Butterfly, Crazy Town
6. Thank You, Dido
7. Don't Tell Me, Madonna
8. He Loves U Not, Dream
9. Gone, 'N Sync
10. Love Don't Cost A Thing, Jennifer Lopez
11. Hero, Enrique Iglesias (I once "swing danced" to this song. It was pathetic.)
12. Hanging By A Moment, Lifehouse
13. Drops Of Jupiter, Train (I an neutral because this song got SO OLD)
14. Jaded, Aerosmith
15. U Remind Me, Usher
16. Hit 'Em Up Style, Blu Cantrell
17. Survivor, Destiny's Child
18. It Wasn't Me. Shaggy featuring Ricardo "Rikrok" Ducent
19. All For You, Janet Jackson
20. Angel, Shaggy featuring Rayvon (Stupid re-do)
21. Turn Off The Light, Nelly Furtado
22. All Or Nothing, O-Town
23. How You Remind Me, Nickelback
24. Someone To Call My Lover, Janet Jackson
25. Fill Me In, Craig David
26. It's Been Awhile, Staind
27. I'm Like A Bird, Nelly Furtado
28. Bootylicious, Destiny's Child
29. Again, Lenny Kravitz
30. Let Me Blow Ya Mind, Eve featuring Gwen Stefani
31. Everywhere, Michelle Branch (This song has three chords, which is why I can play it on my guitar)
32. Stutter, Joe featuring Mystikal
33. Irresistable , Jessica Simpson
34. I Hope You Dance, Lee Ann Womack
35. Nobody Wants To Be Lonely, Ricky Martin & Christina Aguilera
36. Here's To The Night, Eve 6
37. Beautiful Day, U2
38. Emotion, Destiny's Child
39. Superman (It's Not Easy), Five For Fighting
40. Southside, Moby with Gwen Stefani
41. The Space Between, Dave Matthews Band
42. Play, Jennifer Lopez
43. When It's Over, Sugar Ray
44. Drive, Incubus
45. More Than That, Backstreet Boys
46. What Would You, Do City High
47. Be Like That, 3 Doors Down
48. I Wanna Be Bad ,Willa Ford
49. Peaches & Cream , 112
50. Ride Wit Me, Nelly
51. Only Time, Enya
52. Where The Party At, Jagged Edge with Nelly
53. Standing Still, Jewel
54. Pop, 'N Sync
55. This Is Me , Dream
56. Never Had A Dream Come True, S Club 7
57. Crazy, K-Ci & JoJo
58. You Make Me Sick, Pink
59. What It Feels Like For A Girl, Madonna
60. E.I., Nelly
61. Dig In, Lenny Kravitz
62. Get Ur Freak On, Missy Elliott
63. Breathless, The Corrs
64. Every Other Time, LFO
65. Yellow, Coldplay
66. Best I Ever Had (Grey Sky Morning), Vertical Horizon
67. One Minute Man, Missy Elliott
68. I Do, Toya
69. Fly Away From Here, Aerosmith
70. I'm A Slave 4 U, Britney Spears
71. Smooth Criminal, Alien Ant Farm
72. Still On Your Side, BBMak
73. No More (Baby I'ma Do Right), 3LW
74. My Everything, 98 Degrees
75. Ms. Jackson, Outkast
76. Start The Commotion, The Wiseguys
77. Free, Mya
78. Baby, Come On Over (This Is Our Night), Samantha Mumba
79. Hemmorhage (In My Hands), Fuel
80. Drowning, Backstreet Boys
81. Around The World (La La La…), ATC
82. Thank You For Loving Me, Bon Jovi
83. AM To PM, Christina Milian
84. Izzo (H.O.V.A.), Jay-Z
85. Flavor Of The Week, American Hi-Fi
86. What's Going On, All Star Tribute
87. Stronger, Britney Spears
88. One More Time, Daft Punk
89. I'm A Believer, Smash Mouth
90. We Fit Together, O-Town
91. Differences, Ginuwine
92. Follow Me, Uncle Kracker
93. There You'll Be, Faith Hill
94. So In Love With Two, Mikaila
95. In My Pocket, Mandy Moore
96. Mad Season, Matchbox 20
97. Bad Day,, Fuel
98. What's Your Fantasy Ludacris
99. Liquid Dreams, O-Town
100. Babylon, David Gray

Literature for Adolescents and Social Reconstructivism

I'm taking a class this semester called Literature for Adolescents. Now, as a disclaimer, I love to read, but I loved it even more when I was a teenager, and thus, in many ways, my interests in books still falls a bit on the juvenile side. So really, this class is perfect for me.

But the most interesting part of the class is the professor. The first day, we jumped right into activities and sharing and discussion, which is usually not at all up my alley, but he was so positive about it, and was clear that these activities were things he really believed in, and things that he thought were going to ultimately be very important to us in constructing our knowledge of Young Adult Literature. At the end of that first class (which was just last week), Dr. Moore told us that he considers himself to be a social constructivist.

I'm now pulling out my Ed Psych book to give you an accurate idea of what social constructivism is. Vygotsky is the name of the man who did a lot with this theory (you may remember old Lev from my discussion of the Zone of Proximal Development earlier when I was talking about Scrabble). Vygotsky believed that "learners first construct knowledge in a social context and then appropriate and internalize it." Which basically means that by treating this class as a discussion group, we're going to come up with our own theories and ideas about the books we're reading, construct a meaning for them together, and then internalize that meaning and knowledge in our own ways.

Now, I love Vygotsky for his ZPD idea, but generally I think social constructivism is a bunch of hooey. This might be, in part, because I never got much out of working with groups in school because I always ended up doing most of the work and constructing my own meaning (to which Vygotsky would probably argue that if I had been afforded a peer group at the same mental level as I, I would have been able to construct better meaning from the knowledge I was supposed to be gaining). In addition, there are some real problems to just letting kids go with constructing their own knowledge and hoping that they'll stumble across the "right" knowledge. For some areas of school, that's not important -- for example, it's ok to come to one interpretation of a text and is different from someone else's, but it's NOT ok to come to an interpretation of gravity that isn't correct.

But despite all of my general dislike for this theory of education, Dr. Moore is so clearly intelligent and implementing this idea so well that I have to say he's bringing me around. There's no touchy-feely crap going on in the class (at least, not thus far), and he is giving us significantly difficult assignments and a pretty heavy workload, both things I don't associate with social constructivism. To me, however, there's nothing so satisfying as taking a class with someone who is both incredibly intelligent and, at the same time, personable and good at teaching (not someone who's a genius but who can't explain simple concepts). I take those people more seriously, especially when I'm paying them to teach me.

Study Break

I'm in the library, having just finished a killer 1-hour reading of, oh, 7 pages of introductory young adult literary theory. I'm torn, because I learned an awful lot and processed a good deal in that hour, but still, an hour for seven pages seems a little ridiculous. I'm not saying I could have done it faster, because I had a study guide to complete as I was reading, but rather, perhaps next time our prof could give us fewer questions? Please?

I like to work ahead, to plan out study sessions to maximize time and get things done and stay focused (and study breaks, such as this little foray into blogworld are very important to maintaining focus and not burning out). But for me, the absolute best part of studying is the planning. When I can sit in front of my planner (God bless Maureen and Liz and Anna who gave it to me for my birthday senior year of college), and use my sticky notes and colored pens to make lists, and then retool the lists as I place tasks in order of priority. I derive great pleasure from being able to cross tasks off lists.

I'm a little Type A, which I firmly believe serves me well in life. It makes things like wedding planning easier. It makes me a good candidate for planning conferences for work, and I truly am working on a bear of a conference for January, with something in the realm of 50 presenters on various career fields, and 500 student/parent participants.

Sometimes I get a little out of control, like when I spent actual time at work planning how I can spend more time at work to "bank hours" for later in the semester when I know I won't be able to pull 20 hours a week. Or when I write the rough draft of a paper a full month ahead of time. Being so Type A brings with it a small amount of anxiety. But in the end, when my fellow students are pulling all-nighters, and I crawl into bed at midnight for my full 8 hours of sweet, sweet slumber, it is then that I appreciate this organized impulse I've been blessed with.

I'm Not the Dummy

Tonight was a fantastic night. I had class (which was not fantastic), and then I went to swing dancing in the Graduate Complex Lounge. It was great! There was a little lesson, and then we just danced until we wanted to leave. It brought back old memories of Notre Dame and swing dancing. I was so pleasantly surprised that there were a good number of guys there, and they did their job very well in rotating and asking the girls to all dance in turn. It was such a nice pleasant atmosphere, and everyone was extremely friendly.

Then, when we decided to leave, Dave and LaToya and Kathryn and I decided to go out for a drink. Now, I'm not a big drinker (my parents can attest to my being an extremely cheap date), and I don't generally like the bar scene a whole lot, when the music is so loud you can't hear anyone, etc. But tonight it was really good. After the four of us had been there awhile, just chatting, a couple of Dave and LaToya's law school classmates showed up, who were also extremely nice guys. Everyone made Kathryn and I (who are both non-law students -- I know her from work at the Center for Gifted Education) feel as if we were already a part of the group. It was seamless and very generous of them. Notre Dame and Teach for America were never so open. I always felt vaguely like I was reliving middle school in social situations, and there was none of that overtone here.

I've been thinking back a lot to Notre Dame, I think because it's a more analogous experience to school here than Teach for America was, and as we were walking home tonight and lightly discussing politics, I found myself very comfortable talking about it with Dave and LaToya. It was funny -- at Notre Dame, most of my friends were in the Honors Program with me, and (with the exception of my girls), I never quite felt like I was up to speed with them all. There were a few souls with whom I truly felt completely comfortable, but a lot of time, I felt just one step less intelligent than everyone, and once in awhile, conversations would devolve into obvious attempts to decide who was really "the smartest." For example, the oh-so-dreaded "What other schools were you accepted to?" conversation. Like it mattered that you got into Yale or Harvard or...anywhere else. We were all at Notre Dame together, and I found that kind of conversation vaguely annoying, like we still had something to prove. I also had significantly less tolerance for arguments about hypothetical and/or abstract ideas or theories than the other HP kids. They could debate philosophical and theological stuff for hours, and it bored me after the first, oh, 25 minutes or so. I loved the depth of conversation, but not so much the refusing to budge and redundant nature of them. Sometimes, it just seemed like mental masturbation, a way of pointing out how "deep" and "insightful" people thought themselves to be.

Interestingly, I don't feel like I have to prove anything here. The graduate students (and the law students) have such different backgrounds, there's no point in comparing, and that's nice. There's a certain level of intelligence assumed, because unmotivated people don't choose to do graduate work, but people don't try to compare experiences, they share them. When I talk to the other grad students, even the physics doctoral students, they're just people and we're just chatting, not trying to one-up each other.

I don't want to give the impression that ND was bad -- it wasn't, and I loved it, and my HP friends were my center there. It's just that this is refreshing, and I feel much more comfortable much more quickly. I wonder if it's simply a matter of everyone's maturity. It's amazing what a few years can do.

Scrabulous and the Zone of Proximal Development

I can now play Scrabble on Facebook. My favorite game combined with my favorite time-waster. Glorious.

Andy and I play Scrabble a lot. It's challenging, because he's better than I am. There's a developmental psychologist named Vygotsky that educators talk about a lot, because he developed this idea called the "Zone of Proximal Development" (ZPD). The idea is that kids learn things the best when they are given tasks that are just above their capabilities, so they have to stretch to complete them. Well, a Scrabble game with Andy is right in my ZPD. I rarely win, but I'm close enough to his ability to keep him from completely killing me every time...then I'd lose motivation, and Vygotsky doesn't want that!

I think, aside from Scrabble, Andy and I are relatively well-matched mentally. I would have to imagine that's going to be key for a good marriage, as long as neither of us gets too smart in graduate school. (I can safely say that's not a danger for me...)

Identity Crisis

I started grad school this summer at William and Mary. I'm also working 20 hours a week at the Center for Gifted Education, a fantastic gold star for the resume (not to mention they're paying a good chunk of my tuition...). When I walked in on my first day, aside from being thrown into the melee of a conference for hundreds of teachers that the Center was running, I also made the decision to introduce myself as Rebecca. It made sense -- when I taught at Clinton Middle School last year, whenever anyone there referred to me by anything other than Ms. Walter, it was always Rebecca. And, you know, Becky is the name of a kid. Rebecca sounds more mature, and makes sense to use professionally.

Right, brilliant. Identity crisis ensues.

I answer the phone at work and forget that my name is now Rebecca. I accidentally introduce myself to 1 of 17 presenters at a conference as Becky, and I feel warm and fuzzy with the familiarity, but slightly worried that someone will call me out on it. People call out to me from inside their offices at the Center, and I don't realize they're talking to me when they call "Rebecca." And then, I realized that 75% of the people in my classes this semester (at which I made the conscious decision to be the less formal "Becky"), also work with me at the Center. So then I become that annoying person who can't answer the question "But what do you prefer to be called?"

Even now, I start a new blog, and it asks me what name I want to post under. Oh man. I was tempted to call myself something neutral, like "Woman," "Hildegaard von Bingen" or "Hey You". I think I settled on Rebecca M. I felt relief, however, when I realized that blog-setting-up decision was changeable, like the title.

Oh, yes, the title. I sat at my desk staring at the hole in the leg of my jeans for a full five minutes trying to decide what to call this little adventure. I envy those people who have the dedication to stick to blogs with a purpose. Like the restaurant reviewers, or the political commentators (who bore me to tears, but hey, at least they have a purpose), or even Mom, who can keep a kind of religious "musings with Jesus" theme going in her blog. But I don't have a theme. I can't think of anything important enough to me that I could weave it throughout a long sequence of postings.

So I went to thesaurus.com and searched the synonyms for "miscellaneous." You know, as in, "Becky's Page of Miscellanea" (this was, literally, the name of my webpage that I created in 8th grade when I taught myself HTML and was hosted by geocities in Vienna/Strasse...oh, the good old days!). But as I thought about it, that just seemed like advertising my indecision and lack of overarching life philosophy. What's a girl to do?

Flight of the Conchords.

I knew the boys would inspire me. The first song on the CD that Andy, my fiance burned for me, which I assume is called "Part Time Model", includes a line that says something to the effect of, "You're the most beautiful girl in the whole wide room." Perfect. Vague, witty, and uncommitted to anything.

I am a little nervous about this blog. As I previously mentioned, my mother just started her own missive in cyberspace, which, if not overbearing, is at least slightly theological in nature. I hope I don't offend her with my wild, worldly, and sometimes nonCatholic ideas.

I guess we'll see how it all goes. And perhaps, more importantly, if I become at all regular in posting. My old online journal was sadly neglected. I'm hoping the pretty template for this blog will keep me engaged a bit more consistently.